A Dangerous Path
by EngulfedMagic
Summary: A/U Dean is a prison guard and Castiel is an inmate. The two seem to be drawn to each other. But Castiel is dangerous and Dean needs to make the right choices, or the man will ruin him.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I got my inspiration from one of the fanfics that I was reading the other day (twice). I wanted to write about a cold-hearted, possessive, manipulative Cas. I don't know if the title suits the story though. I would love to hear some ideas and feedback, whether I should continue writing this or not. But anyway enjoy, and I hope you'll like it.**

**Oh yeah, I don't know anything about prison, or prison rules. My knowledge goes as far as 'Prison Break'. So do not judge, if I'm completely getting this wrong.**

**I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

><p>'New fish coming in today' – Michael grumbled finishing his lunch – 'Gonna be a fun day'<p>

The smirk that crossed his mouth made me sick. I gulped down my glass of water, standing up and putting on my jacket. The inmates were going to arrive in half an hour. I never checked the names or the crimes they committed. That way I could be less biased towards the new men who would already get shit from the other guards and prisoners.

The air was cold as I stepped outside. It was break time for the inmates and they were strolling around the courtyard, some excited for the new fish to arrive. It was a maximum facility; we would get men who were some real piece of work. All of these guys needed to be watched. Murder and rape was very well known around here. Not just from the prisoners but from the guards as well. The government seemed to pick the roughest guards who could control this shithole, anyway possible.

I don't even know how I managed to get a job here. I guess Sam (my lawyer brother) pulled some strings. I did need a job after all and I had a strong build. Though my face didn't seem to be as manly as I have thought, some of the inmates would leer at me, whom I just ignored and watched my back. I was the youngest guard here and everyone seemed to know that.

The bus pulled in through the gates and the inmates gathered closer to the fence that was in place around the yard. They observed quietly as the door opened and the men piled out, handcuffed and chained to each other, so they would form a single line, all wearing orange jumpsuits. I could see their nervousness as they glanced around, preparing for the worst to come, some of them didn't deserve to be here. After all the law wasn't always right. And those were the ones who felt prey to the hard core criminals. Who were, right now, already picking the weakest link, which they could use as their personal toy.

My eyes swept over all the new inmates, trying to guess what they have done, without knowing their background. All of them showed some kind of emotion, either fear, worry, anger, or resignation. Except one.

He was walking slowly, following the others, his eyes lazily roamed around the place, like he was bored. There was nothing about his body language that could signify anything he felt. It simply looked like he didn't care. He had a lean body, average height, messy brown hair. I didn't know how long I was observing him, but he must have realized that he was being watched and turned his gaze on me. I have never seen such blue eyes, they were clear as the sky and they didn't reveal any emotion either. The only thought in my mind was that the man was beautiful. I knew he was older than me, the wrinkles around his face revealed that much. At that moment I wished that I read about the new prisoners. I wanted to know this man's name, I wanted to know his crime. He didn't look like he belonged here. He would not have an easy time. The others would single him out, either the prisoners or the guards.

He passed near me, never leaving my gaze. I didn't look away either. It was a sign of weakness when you looked away first; it made you an easy prey. Out gazes separated when he had to turn to walk inside the building. And I could finally breathe again.

* * *

><p>The first day was a mess as always. Prisoners trying to get their hands on the new fish: some ended up in infirmary. I went to check, hoping that the blue eyed man wasn't there.<p>

Garth greeted me as I walked in, his tension slipping away as he saw me. He didn't like most of the guards.

'What's up Dean?' – He was doing his notes, probably writing down all of the injures the inmates sustained as my eyes swept around the big room. He wasn't here. I didn't know why I felt relieved. For all I knew the man could be a paedophile or rapist. I still didn't look at the files: mostly fearing that I would be disappointed. I didn't know why I cared. I have never taken interest in an inmate before.

'Anyone died?' – I asked casually, it wasn't unusual for me to check up on the inmates.

'Nope. One got pretty nasty cuts but he'll live' – Garth replied calmly, sorting through his documents. I nodded and left him to his work.

The rest of the day went slowly. I was trying to find out what cell the man was put into, but couldn't. There was way too many. The prison consisted of 3 floors. It was humongous. 10 guards were positioned on each floor to keep everything in check.

I was on night duty as well. Working 24 hours in a row was the usual shift. Afterwards I could have 2 days off. I walked around the first floor, glancing through the bars of each cell, still trying to find the mysterious prisoner. He could be on the second or third floor, but I wasn't allowed to go up, unless I was stationed there. So I made my way around all the cells and went to the bathroom stalls, needing a break from all the eyes of the inmates who were still awake.

I wandered through the empty hallway, leading to the toilets when I heard a grunt. My feet stopped as I tried to make my breathing quieter and listened. From working here for half a year, I could easily imagine the scenario that was going on behind the closed doors. The guards would sometimes pick inmates out for their own personal pleasure. It was revolting. Another grunt and a voice hissing: 'Make yourself useful you piece of thrash'

'I'm not your bitch' – came the reply and I felt all the air leave my lungs. The voice was low, gravelly, like whiskey. A thump and a cough followed.

My legs moved on their own as I threw the door open, taking in the sight before me. Zachariah was standing in front of a hunched inmate, who was kneeling on the floor, head bowed and hair falling around his face to conceal his identity. Zachariah must have hit him in the stomach with the baton that he was clenching in his hand.

'What's going on here?' – I raised my voice, sounding indignant. Zachariah only noticed me then, turning his head and glaring at me. It was a stupid question, really, anyone with half a wit, would guess what was taking place. But I refused to back down. I stared at Zachariah, my jaw clenching.

The asshole sighed: 'He didn't obey the rules.'

That was an outright lie, but there was no way I could prove it. At that moment the man turned his head to the side, looking at me through the hair that was falling into his eyes. His blue eyes. Shit. I felt anger rise up in me, but I squashed it down. The man gave me a wide smile, which looked manic. Zachariah didn't see as he pushed past me and ordered:

'Get him back into his cell – 315'

So he was on the third floor.

The two of us were left alone. We didn't break eye contact and he was still smiling at me. He made me nervous. His gaze caged me. I didn't know how long we were watching each other, but I had to stop this staring contest

'Get up' – my voice sounded as if from a distance. I stepped forward and grabbed the man's forearm, bringing him to his feet. His wrists were handcuffed behind his back. Zachariah was probably afraid to take him without restraints.

I led him out of the bathroom, keeping my eyes forward, not letting go of his arm as he fell into step beside me. I could feel him staring at me, I refused to acknowledge it. He was shorter than me, but not by much.

'So does this happen often here?' – He asked amusingly. And again his voice struck something in me.

'What?' – I knew what he meant but I just wanted to hear him again.

'Guards fucking the inmates'

And the way he said 'fucking' made a shiver run down my spine. I didn't reply to him. He already knew the answer.

'Have **you** fucked an inmate?' – His voice went even lower and I swallowed, hoping he didn't notice the movement.

'None of your business' – I bit back, trying to ignore him; we already made our way to the stairs, the others observing us quietly.

'I see' – he replied simply and I could feel that he was smiling. I wanted to ask what the hell did that mean, but I knew I would just be playing into his hands.

We reached his cell in silence; he gracefully walked in, waiting for me to un-cuff his hands. I got my keys and tried not to touch his skin as I took off the handcuffs. He turned around and I realized that we were standing too close, out chests nearly touching. I couldn't avoid his eyes from this distance. They reflected the light from the outside, and they were smiling. I stepped back, shutting the cell.

'What's your name?' – His fingers wrapped around the bars as he brought his face closer.

'You don't need to know it' – I replied, trying to keep my poker face in place as I turned to walk away from him

'Whatever you say **O****fficer**' – he drawled

That comment sent heat straight to my groin. Fuck my life.

* * *

><p>2 days later, I returned to work, excited and nervous at the same time. I wanted to see him again. The man hasn't left my mind at all. I had to take two cold showers. What the fuck was wrong with me? I have never been attracted to a man before. And I still didn't know his name.<p>

I walked around the yard, outside the fence, observing everyone. I didn't want to acknowledge the fact that I was looking for him. After 5 minutes of searching, my eyes fell on his figure: sitting on one of the benches eating a sandwich, staring at the sky. He was alone. No one approached him, which I found weird. Fish was always surrounded by other inmates. But the way the prisoners walked around him, glancing warily in his direction made it look like they were afraid of him. Who the hell was he?

I noticed Rufus to my left, and made my way to the older guard. Rufus was a good cop, he got shot in the line of duty and the police force wouldn't take him back, so he ended up working here, trying to support his wife and kids.

'Hey Rufus, I want to ask you something'

Rufus gave me a brief glance before looking at the yard again: 'What is it, kid?'

I hated when others called me kid. I was 28 for god's sake. I decided to ignore it though, for now.

'Who is that? The new inmate, sitting by himself on the bench, the others seem to avoid him.' – I jerked my head in the direction of the man. He finished with his sandwich now and was lazily looking around, with his arms on his knees.

Rufus gave a barked laugh. I looked at him in shock, waiting for an explanation.

'Seriously Dean, you should start reading about the inmates or you gonna get yourself killed, or worse.'

I didn't reply, waiting for him to continue about the man.

He shook his head: 'That's Castiel Novak.'

The name suited the man. It was strange just like him.

Rufus continued, not paying me any attention as I bit my lip, trying to control my body and my imagination as I now knew the name of the object of my fantasies.

'He is a psychopath. A serial killer, tortured and killed a lot of people, the police lost count'

Holy shit. He was a murderer. Well, at least he wasn't a rapist or a paedophile. Wow, my moral code is seriously messed up.

'I see.' – I replied calmly, trying to settle down my annoying heartrate. There was seriously something wrong with me.

Rufus chuckled and patted me on the back: 'He is a manipulative son of a bitch'

Castiel's boredom, no emotion, refusing to obey Zachariah, the manic smiles: all that made sense now. He was insane; he didn't care about anything or anyone.

I walked around the courtyard, trying not to look in his direction. I was on a dangerous path, I needed to stay away from him.

'Yo, Dean' – A voice called from inside the fence. I looked at the man, seeing a smirk playing on the prisoner's lips. I groaned inside.

'Do you wanna visit my cell tonight?' – the man sneered walking along the fence, trying to keep up with me.

'No, Benny, I'm not interested.' – I gave a tired reply.

'Oh come on Dean, you are such a tease. You can do anything you want to me. You're the only hot guard around here.'

Moments like this made me want to quit my job. I wasn't interested in men, wasn't that obvious? Castiel's face appeared in my mind. Awesome.

'Find someone else, Benny.' – I turned to look at him, sternly, but my eyes fell behind his head, drawn to the bench again. Castiel's eyes were on me: silently watching. His gaze made my blood run cold.

* * *

><p>Benny's body was found the next day, in the shower stall. Neck broken.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So thank you for reading the first chapter and for the reviews. I totally forgot to mention that I imagine Cas in this story as the future Cas, the way he looked in season 5 episode 4 'The End'. I hope this chapter is not too boring.**

**I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

><p>The days passed slowly, with nothing major happening, which I was thankful for. I tried to avoid Castiel as much as I could, only seeing him in the courtyard and cafeteria occasionally.<p>

Tuesday was the visitation day and I was overlooking it. My eyes quickly swept over the visitors, lingering on one girl, red hair, pale skin, very attractive. She was very calm looking at the doors where the prisoners would enter the big room. In a moment they did and the inmates filed into the room, trying to find their relatives, friends, lovers. I watched every inmate until I saw him again. I didn't think he would have anyone.

He didn't notice me as he moved forward into the room, locating the person who was waiting for him. I followed his line of sight. It was the redhead. Who was now smiling, as Castiel sat down across from her. He was sitting with his back to me so I couldn't see his face. But something twisted in my stomach. I didn't want her to look at him like that, her eyes worshipped him. His girlfriend/wife? I couldn't hear what they were talking about, and I forgot about everyone else as my eyes solely concentrated on the pair.

'5 minutes left' – one of the guards shouted. There were four of us positioned at every corner.

The girl briefly glanced at Michael and continued talking to Castiel. When it was time for him to go, her hand reached out and gently touched his fingers. My mind was consumed with jealousy. As he stood up and turned away, walking back, his eyes fell on me. Once again, no emotion. Why was it so hard to read this guy? He smirked as he passed me, breaking eye contact. I wondered if he could read me.

* * *

><p>I was stationed on the third floor 3 days later, and I was trying so hard not to walk by his cell. But it seemed that my feet had a mind of their own. I didn't look inside as I strode by. But just as I was about to pass out of his line of sight, his voice stopped me:<p>

'Hello, there officer, long time no see'

I turned around, desperately trying to control my emotions, as his voice swept through me. He was leaning against the bars, one of his arms hanging outside, and he was grinning.

'Castiel' – I said simply, and I loved how his name rolled of my tongue.

His grin was gone in a second, replaced by a narrowing of eyes:

'You know my name' – he stated, curiously

'I'm the prison guard, I'm supposed to know your name' – I frowned at his reaction.

Then the smile was back again: 'Not from what I hear. You are the only guard who doesn't know the inmates' names unless they tell you. It's your way of treating them all fair and square.' – He sounded amused.

I was lost for words, how the hell did he know this? Did all prisoners know?

He continued talking, oblivious to my inner turmoil:

'So how do you know my name? You looked through my files?' – His smile turned manic and his eyes danced: 'Liked what you saw?'

This man was crazy. I still didn't look through his files. I didn't want to. I couldn't picture him as a torturer. But when he looked at me like that. It was so easy to imagine him standing over another person and enjoying their pain. Why the hell was I so drawn to him?

'No, I haven't' – I replied calmly, not explaining what question I was answering.

He chuckled, inclining his head to the side, still watching me.

'You are very popular, officer. The inmates talk about you all the time. You are different from the other guards.' – His hand gripped the bar tightly as he continued in a lower voice – 'and that makes them mad. They either want to rip you apart or own you'

My jaw clenched, and the words left my mouth before I could stop them: 'And what do you want?'

His eyes gleamed as he took his time replying: 'I want a lot of things'

I couldn't stand there anymore. I turned around, walking away from him, before my face showed how much I was affected by him. I didn't come near his cell again.

* * *

><p>Another week went past, and I felt that I was in control of my urges. I had a great weekend, finding a girl for the night, who made me forget all about a certain prisoner, I was feeling refreshed and satisfied.<p>

This time I was guarding the first floor, as the inmates strolled around the hall. They got two hours during the day out of their cells to walk around and stretch their legs. One hour was spent indoors, the other in the courtyard.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I took it, looking at the caller ID. Garth. I wondered what he wanted as I pressed the accept button.

'Hey Garth'

'Dean, hey, do you mind coming to the infirmary, I need some help with something.' – Garth sounded high-pitched and nervous.

'Sure, I'll be right there.' – I sighed. He probably made some mistake again in the notes and wanted me to sort it out. It wasn't unusual. Garth messed up sometimes.

I let Rufus know that I was going to the infirmary before walking out.

I swung the door open, walking inside: 'What did you do no-' – I broke off in the middle of the sentence, meeting Garth's frightened eyes and noticing the cloth tied around his mouth. The door slammed shut behind me, locking and before I got a chance to turn around, something heavy hit the back of my head. I fell forward, stars behind my eyelids. I tried to regain my balance but instead my arms were yanked behind my back and tied with a rope. Rough arms lifted me to my feet and pushed me towards the bed. I stumbled and the man turned me around, throwing me on the sheets. My back hit the headboard and I tried to concentrate. My vision swam a little as I tried to see what the hell was happening.

'Finally I have you all to myself' – the man sneered and I concentrated on his face, trying to remember who he was. Definitely an inmate, the orange jumpsuit gave that much away.

'Gordon, hurry up.' – Another voice sounded from the distance and I followed it. The man was standing beside Garth, looking nervously at the door.

'No, I'm gonna take my time with this one. I was waiting for this for way too long. We are gonna have some fun' – Gordon didn't pay any attention to his 'friend' as he walked closer to me.

'You are making a mistake' – I spoke calmly, I didn't feel any fear yet.

The man laughed, his hand going to the bedside table and picking up a scalpel. Castiel's words swam in my head: 'They either want to rip you apart or own you'

Which category did Gordon fall into?

He brought the scalpel to my face, sliding it across my cheek and down my neck, not cutting. As the instrument reached my collar, he swallowed, pupils dilating. Next thing I knew, my shirt was open, as the scalpel cut off every button. My breathing was under control as the man's eyes swept over my torso. He dropped his gaze to my pants and licked his lips. He put his hand over my clothed crotch, rubbing it. There was no reaction.

'Sorry dude, not a fag.' – I spoke, giving him a rough smile.

His fist connected with my face and I winced, head going sideways from the blow.

'Don't worry, you'll respond. Natural reaction.' – He whispered into my ear.

His fingers traced my stomach, going down to my belt, unbuckling it, and pushing the zipper down. The panic started to set in. His hand was about to land on my boxers when there was a knock at the door. The scalpel was near my coronary artery in a millisecond, as Gordon looked at the other inmate. His partner in crime swallowed nervously and put another scalpel to Garth's neck, whispering in his ear. Garth nodded and the mouth gag was untied:

'Who is it?' – He called nervously.

There was silence outside before the stranger answered:

'Castiel Novak'

My heart thundered as Gordon's scalpel slowly fell from my neck. 'The psychopath?' – he questioned his friend quietly, not looking at me. The man nodded, saying something to Garth again

'Sorry, we are closed now. Come back later' – Garth obeyed.

No response and I could hear footsteps walking away.

'CAS!' – I shouted, not being able to stop myself. Three pairs of eyes turned to me in shock. Dead silence filled the room. The sound of a door being unlocked reached my ears, and I stared at the exit, holding my breath. Everyone did exactly the same. The door opened and Castiel strolled in, calmly shutting the door behind him. He quickly looked around, eyes lingering on me longer, sweeping down my exposed body, before focusing on Gordon:

'Enjoying yourselves?' – He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were ice cold.

'Mind your own business' – Gordon spit back, turning around fully to face the intruder.

'I would' – Castiel said slowly, walking towards him – 'But I don't like when someone touches my things.'

The possessiveness in his voice made my body shiver.

Quick as lighting Castiel's hand grabbed the scalpel and he stabbed Gordon in the jugular. The man gurgled on his blood before collapsing. Castiel took out the scalpel and turned around to the other inmate, who at that moment ran to the door. He didn't get far as the scalpel was thrown, and was buried inside the back of his neck.

I stared at Castiel. The man was calm, his breathing wasn't even elevated. He turned to look at me again, his gaze calculating. And now my lower half decided to react. Fuck. I prayed to God he didn't notice, but his eyes grazed over my body again, pausing at the growing bulge between my legs. He smirked before lifting his gaze and looking at Garth

'You have scissors?' – He asked calmly and Garth nodded, glancing at the top drawer beside him.

Castiel walked towards him, getting the scissors, while I tried to will my arousal away, thinking of old grannies and god knows what.

Too soon he was back and his hand landed on my shoulder pulling me forward. The skin contact was like an electrical shock. I shut my eyes, trying to get myself under control. I heard the sound of ropes being cut and my hands were free. I quickly zipped up my jeans, cursing at my body, and swung my legs over the side of the bed, trying to button up my shirt and completely forgetting that all the buttons were cut off.

'Now we are even' – Castiel's voice reached my ears and I looked up. He was standing in front of me, only 1 foot away, looking down on me. His face didn't reveal anything. I guessed he meant the incident with Zachariah.

'Yeah' – I answered back.

This time he was the one to walk away, stepping over the bodies and leaving me and Garth to clean up the mess.

* * *

><p>I walked around the courtyard a day later, trying to forget what happened in the infirmary. Thankfully Garth and I spun a story that everyone seemed to believe, without involving Castiel. I never mentioned that I was nearly raped. Just reported on finding Garth tied up and that the 2 inmates attacked me, so I defended myself with the weapons that they used against me. No one really cared.<p>

'Nice shiner' – Castiel was in my line of vision again, standing in front of the fence, hands in his pockets. I looked at him, without answering, he was grinning again.

'So when are you working on the third floor again?' – He inquired

'Tonight' – I answered immediately, anticipation growing in my gut. – 'Why?'

He shrugged: 'You are not boring' – and walked away. My eyes followed the alignment of his hips, as my body started to grow hot. I rolled my eyes.

* * *

><p>The night rolled around quickly and before I knew it I was on the third floor. This time I walked to his cell without pause and stopped before it, looking inside. His bedside lamp was on, and he was reading a book, lying on the bed. His eyes met mine over the top of the book and I knew he was smiling<p>

'Officer' – he greeted me

'Dean' – I corrected, my voice dropping an octave.

His eyes glinted: 'Dean' – he repeated and how amazing my name sounded rolling of his tongue.

I continued staring at him. I wanted him. And he knew it.

The jingle of keys brought me back to reality and I turned towards the sound. Lucifer was looking at me over his glasses, the keys in his hand. Lucifer was the head guard. The man was strict but not bad. He didn't really care about anything either, just the order of things.

He was waiting for me to take them, to open Castiel's cell. His gaze was inquisitive, waiting for me to make a decision. I knew Castiel was watching me, waiting as well.

I made my decision, as I turned around and walked away, clenching my teeth. I was not like the other guards, I would not use someone for my own sick pleasure.

* * *

><p>A week later Castiel approached me in the hall, speaking behind my back: 'Why didn't you take the keys?'<p>

I turned my head, meeting his blue eyes. We were so close. His warm breath ghosted over my face.

'I'm not like them' – I retaliated.

His smile lit up the room as he started to leave: 'Good, Neither am I.' – He winked at me, before turning away.

* * *

><p><strong>AN. I like Lucifer, so he is not going to be a bad guy. Well I love the actor who played Lucifer, I think he is awesome.**

**Feedback will be greatly appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm pretty much coming up with this on the spot. I don't know yet what I am going to write for the next chapter. So if I don't update, you can safely assume I am stuck. It would be great to hear if you guys have any ideas, of what you want to happen. I'm open to anything. Thank you for the reviews, they really make up my day, and I would love to hear more.**

**And if anyone is wondering why I chose to write in Dean's point of view. The answer is that I have no idea. I just felt like it. I don't even know if I am portraying him very well.**

**Anyway, read on.**

**I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

><p>The red-head visited every week, and it started to drive me insane. Who the hell was she? I couldn't really ask Castiel about her, he would easily read my jealously. I could have looked at the files, but something was keeping me away from them. So I decided just to observe them and draw my conclusions from their interactions.<p>

She looked at him with care and whenever she had the chance she would brush her fingers lightly against his skin, which made me shake with anger. She always gave him a warm smile. How I hoped it wasn't his wife…

* * *

><p>Another day rolled around and I was stationed on the third floor. The prisoners were roaming around, every cell open. I couldn't see Castiel anywhere so I decided to check on him. As his cell came into my view, my feet froze, looking at the body lying on the floor, face down. I ran in, squatting beside the man and shaking his shoulder. No response. I gripped his shoulders, turning him on his back. It was Castiel, and he was bleeding, everywhere.<p>

'Cas, Come on.' - My fingers searched frantically for his carotid pulse, praying to God that he was alive. After agonizing few seconds, I could feel it, weak, but still there.

I grabbed my radio, calling for assistance: 'Cell 315, Inmate injured and unconscious, medical help needed'

There was noise outside, as my call was transmitted to the other radios and every cell began to shut down as the officers rushed the inmates inside. I waited patiently for someone to get here as quickly as possible. Castiel took a severe beating, his face was covered in blood, his lip was busted as well as his eyebrow, his nose looked broken. I couldn't move him for the fear of causing a spinal injury. He was still breathing, thankfully.

After what felt like ages, paramedics rushed in. Garth was one of them. They laid a stretcher on the ground, told me to move away and professionally lifted Castiel onto it. Oxygen mask was applied as they rushed him out. I followed without thinking. I needed to make sure he was ok. Whoever did this: was dead.

We reached the infirmary at the speed of light. Garth kept shouting orders to the paramedics as one unzipped the jumpsuit, revealing Castiel's upper body. I inhaled sharply looking at his chest. There were scars scattered around his skin, old scars, healed. They trailed down his abdomen disappearing further down under the cloth. How did he get those?

Garth pushed me outside, saying I was in a way and they needed to stabilise him. The door was shut in my face and silence overwhelmed me. I leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. I was freaking out. I didn't want him to die. I closed my eyes trying to control my panic and empty my mind. Those scars kept jumping in my vision. Who did that to him? I breathed out and straightened. I needed to report this to Lucifer. I trusted Garth.

In a few hours I had my report written down. There wasn't much to write. I didn't know who beat him up, I only found him like that. Lucifer accepted it in silence and told me to go back to the infirmary, since Castiel was going to stay for the night, it needed to be guarded.

By the time I came back, it was quiet. Garth was doing his notes and there was no sign of anyone else. Castiel was lying in the bed, his face cleaned, his head bandaged. IV fluids were attached to his left arm. He was sleeping.

'Hey Garth, How is he?'

The medic lifted his head and looked at Castiel before looking at me. After a pause, he replied: 'He took severe beating. His CT looks normal, which is very surprising, but I can out rule head injury, for now. With these things it could still get worse. But he is stable now. He just needs to rest and not move. I'm checking his neuro-obs every hour'

Half of what he said, went over my head, but I could get the gist. Castiel needed to rest.

'Alright, I'll just sit here.' – I made my way towards the bed and pulled up a chair, sitting down. Garth just nodded and went back to his work.

I simply studied Castiel's face as he slept, even beaten up he looked beautiful. His nose didn't appear to be broken but it was still bruised. His left eye was discoloured and his lip was sewn together. I couldn't tear my eyes away. The orange jumpsuit was gone, replaced by a hospital robe. The sheets were drawn up to his chest, arms lying on either side. There were no scars on any visible skin. Someone made sure of that. Anger started to fill me up again. What did Castiel go through?

I didn't notice as I dozed off, only to be woken up by a feeling of being watched. As I opened my eyes, I was met with a pair of blue ones. I stretched my arms and yawned, trying to wake up.

'Hey.' – I said after I was settled comfortably in the chair, arms crossed over my chest.

'What are you doing here?' – Castiel asked quietly, wincing from pain.

'Making sure that you won't escape' – I replied, half-joking

'By falling asleep?' – He deadpanned.

I grinned at him: 'So what happened to you?' - I couldn't ask that with a serious face, I didn't want him to know that I cared.

'I was caught unprepared' – was his simple reply, as he stared up at the ceiling. I knew that was as much as he would tell me. I let the silence settle in.

'I could kill you' – He said suddenly, still studying the ceiling. I stared at him and asked the first thing that came to my mind:

'Will you?'

His gaze dropped to mine, eyes narrowing. I waited for his reply, holding my breath

'I don't know.' – He breathed out. And I didn't know how to react to that. Except that all I could feel was anticipation and excitement; like I was standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to jump off.

'So who is the red-head?' – I decided to completely change the topic, curiosity getting the better of me.

He stared at me in confusion.

'The one who visits you every week?' – I gave a little hint.

Recognition dawned on his face and was replaced by annoyance: 'Why?'

'She seems to care about you.'

He relaxed a little: 'She is my psychologist'

That was not what I was expecting at all. So I decided to add another comment, wanting to see how he reacted

'She looks pretty'

His eyes blazed and I could see his jaw tighten. He was angry. Why?

'Stop.' – He nearly growled. I instantly forgot what I was about to say next. His tone made me freeze as our eyes locked again.

'Stop paying attention to her.' – He gritted out. My heart rate increased. Did he like her? Were they close?

'Or what?' – I dared to ask, not looking away.

'Or I will kill you' – He promised darkly.

Cold shivers ran down my spine and adrenaline was pumping through my blood.

Garth came in before I had a chance to say anything else. We didn't talk after that, and another guard came to relieve me.

As I walked home, I decided that I was going to talk to the red-head. I wanted to get to know her, just to piss Castiel off. Maybe I was a masochist. But I wanted to find out if there was anything more between the two of them other than professional relationship.

* * *

><p>I got my chance to get a hold of her at the next visitation day. After they were done talking and all the inmates filed back, I made my way quickly to follow her, catching her just before she left the building. I placed my hand on her shoulder and she turned around, cautious.<p>

'Sorry.' – I let my hand fall and smiled at her warmly – 'I'm Dean, I work here. I just wanted to inquire about Castiel.' – I paused, giving her a chance to speak, but she just inclined her head, studying me curiously. So I continued anyway: 'You are his psychologist' – it sounded like a question, because for all I knew Castiel could have been lying to me. It only occurred to me now as she was silently observing me.

I thought she was not going to answer me at all, but after a small pause she nodded: 'Yes, I'm Anna. I'm Castiel's counsellor'

Relief flooded over me. He wasn't lying.

'So what did you want to know?' – She raised an eyebrow

Crap, I couldn't really ask if they were sleeping together.

'I just wanted to ask about his well-being.' – I guess that was also the truth.

She sighed and her eyes looked sad: 'Here is probably not the best place to speak. Give me a call. I'll see if I have a free appointment.' – She handed me her card and smiled before walking away. I put the card in my pocket, wondering if I was going to call her.

* * *

><p>Another week passed and once again I was on the third floor. I seemed to be working here a lot. I wondered if Lucifer positioned me here on purpose.<p>

It was loud as the prisoners were out of their cells. As I made my way around, I noticed a white sheet hanging over Castiel's cell securing the view inside. Sometimes the prisoners would hang a sheet, not wanting anyone to know what they were up to. Some guards would ignore it, not caring if someone was getting hurt on the other side. Panic started to swell up in me as I hurried towards his cell. I lifted the sheet and stepped inside: 'Cas?'

Instantly I was slammed against the wall, Castiel's arm pinning my neck, barely giving me any space to breathe. His eyes were on fire.

'I told you to stay away from her.' – He growled. I couldn't move, I didn't realize how much strength this man possessed. My mind worked quickly.

'As I remember, you told me to stop paying attention to her' – I grinned, pretty much signing my death certificate. His arm pushed tighter against my neck, and I had to gulp for breaths.

'Did you fuck her?' – He asked in a low voice. Rage was radiating off him.

'Look you could have told me she was off-limits' – I gasped out.

'I don't give a shit about her' – He hissed, drawing his face closer – 'You are off-limits'

Oh my fucking God. His words made heat shoot down straight to my groin. That's what he was angry about? Me?

'I did.' – I lied, answering his previous question, wanting him to lose it completely. I got the reaction I wanted. His arm disappeared from my neck only to reappear at the back of my head, grabbing my hair. His other hand was sprayed on the wall near my shoulder.

'Don't play with me boy' – He rasped

'Then do something about it' – I bit back, arousal clouding my mind. He drew his body closer. Our groins connected and excitement overwhelmed me, He was hard. And God I wanted some friction. I rolled my hips forward and felt him gasp. My eyes never left his and I could see his pupils dilating, his lips parting. He pulled my hair sharply and I groaned: eyelids fluttering closed.

Then his heat was gone. I was suddenly left alone; Castiel was no longer near me. I opened my eyes, confusion sweeping over my senses. Castiel was on the other side of the room with his back to me.

'Get out' – He spoke slowly, sounding like it was a great effort to pronounce each word.

'Cas?' – I inquired quietly, stepping closer

'Get out!' – He raised his voice and I flinched. Without another word I walked out and was bombarded by all the noise outside. My hands gripped the railing as I breathed out, calming my hot body.

What the fuck?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So this chapter is very dark, abuse and torture is mentioned quite often, but I just had to write it, because it was in my head and I couldn't just not explain Castiel at all. It probably spoils the mystery, but it needed to be written.**

**I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

><p>I was sitting in Anna's reception, flipping through a magazine. After the 'incident' I decided to talk to her and find out what I could about Castiel. The guy made me crazy, he was always on my mind. I was thankful that I wasn't losing the ability to sleep because of him, yet. But the dreams were very vivid, and I always woke up, sweaty and hard, cursing myself for not being able to control my imagination.<p>

'Dean?' – Anna's voice brought me out of my reverie and I lifted my head to see her gesturing into her office. The time for truth has come.

'I hope I'm not taking up much of your time' – I said as I walked in to the room. Her office was cosy. She motioned to the sofa and I sat down, feeling a bit at ease. The atmosphere in the room was comfortable. She sat on the couch opposite from me.

'So what do you want to know?'

I wanted to say 'everything' but I held back: 'Anything you can tell me about Castiel. I just want to understand him better.'

'I can't share much because of the doctor-patient privilege' – She replied calmly. 'And everything that I can tell you is written in his files'

'I haven't read his files' – I answered truthfully

At that she raised her eyebrows, surprised.

I continued before she had a chance to inquire about it - 'I think that sometimes the reports are exaggerated and not very truthful, I just wanted to hear from you, because you seem to care about him. I don't want lies and bias.'

She studied me calmly and nodded: 'I understand. I'll try my best.' – She paused for a second and then continued:

'Castiel is a very challenging individual to understand. He doesn't like to talk and especially to share anything about his life. His childhood was difficult. He did not have a mother, and his father was an abusive alcoholic.'

I tightened my grip on the arm of the sofa, hoping that Anna didn't notice. Abusive father. Shit.

Anna continued despite my inner turmoil: 'I don't know what exactly happened to Castiel as a child, since he refuses to talk about his father full stop, but I think a lot can be said from his victims'

I frowned: 'What do you mean?'

'The way he picked his victims and then tortured them: he picked only middle aged men. He used 'waterboarding' on them and he cut into their skin, not deep enough to kill, but enough to leave scars.'

The image of Castiel lying on the infirmary bed, covered in scars filled my vision. He sustained them as a child; I had no doubt about it.

'How many?' – I couldn't bring myself to say 'did he kill'

'47' – She stated quietly

'But what the reports probably fail to mention is that all this men weren't innocent' – She suddenly spoke with anger in her voice.

I narrowed my eyes, my heartbeat elevating: 'How do you know?'

'I spoke to the families of the victims and all of them were glad that the men were gone. The men were horrible to their loved ones. I think Castiel did them a favour.'

Silence settled over us and my mind was working in overdrive. Maybe Castiel was a torturer and a murderer, maybe it did bring pleasure to him to inflict pain on those men, but he wasn't randomly choosing his victims, he made sure they were scum.

'But even though he did pick these men out because they deserved to be punished, in my opinion he could still easily kill an innocent person.'

'Why?' – My tone grew defensive and something flashed in Anna's eyes

'He is devoid of guilt, empathy and love. He is dangerous because no one knows what can push him over the edge and whether he needs to kill or he wants to kill.'

So pretty much what she was telling me: he was a psychopath. And I knew she was right.

'There is no person that he is close to. He has no friends and as far as I know he never has been in a romantic relationship. Once again he doesn't share so I don't know. There is no one I can ask about him. He worked as a librarian, and he kept to himself, not interacting with anyone at work. His manager could barely tell me two words about him, except that he was excellent at his job.'

He has no one. I didn't find that surprising. The man was alone and probably has been alone for a very long time. I hoped his father was dead, or I would have killed him myself. To torture his own son, a boy no less; He deserved to rot in hell.

'His father refuses to talk to me as well' – She added as an afterthought

My eyes snapped to hers. She was looking at me very carefully.

'He is alive?' – I half croaked; shocked.

She nodded, not giving any further information away

'Where is he?' – I wondered if she could hear the venom in my voice.

Without another word she stood up and walked towards her desk opening one of the drawers and pulling a piece of paper out. Then just as quietly she made her way towards me and handed me the sheet. I took it without hesitation and looked at the top of it.

'Haven Care Centre and Nursing Home' at the bottom was an address, and the name of the man.

I looked up at her again and she didn't look away. Some kind of silent understanding passed between us before she spoke again looking at her watch:

'I'm afraid our time is up, Mr. Winchester.'

I stood up without further ado and nodded: 'Thank you.' – I didn't know what exactly I was thanking her for. She didn't reply as she walked back to her desk.

I left without another word.

I had to take a walk and breathe some fresh air, before I spontaneously combusted from all the information. The address for the nursing home was in my pocket and it felt like the piece of paper was burning a hole through my jeans. I wanted to go there and confront the man who made Castiel's life a nightmare. But I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to control my anger. I could see myself squeezing the man's throat with my bare hands, until he couldn't breathe anymore. I needed to wait, to calm down before I saw him. He was probably not going to say anything to me anyway. But first I needed to let Castiel know that I didn't touch Anna.

* * *

><p>The moment presented itself in the cafeteria. I was walking up and down the line of inmates making sure they stayed in their place. Castiel was one of them and when I was in his earshot, standing right beside him while he was looking at the food I whispered: 'I lied'<p>

His eyes found mine quickly, judging me. I didn't say anything else and walked on. I hoped he understood.

* * *

><p>The nursing home was like any other nursing homes. It smelled of old people. I made my way to reception and was met with a smiling secretary<p>

'What can I help you with, sir?'

'I'm here to visit James Novak.'

Her eyes glinted behind her glasses, recognising the name.

'Are you related?' – I forgot it was protocol to ask who the hell visited these patients, so I did what I was doing quite often lately. I lied

'No, I'm a police officer. I'd like to ask him a few questions' – I quickly flipped my prison ID badge at her, hoping she didn't inquire to see it again.

Her eyes widened: 'Is this about his son?'

'I can't reveal any information' – I answered smoothly

'Of course. Let me call the nurse, she will take you to Mr. Novak'

I smiled as she dialled the number and waited.

'Hey, Hana, there is a policeman here to see Mr. Novak. Do you mind showing him where he is'

She hung up after a second: 'She'll be here in a few minutes. You can take a sit if you want.' – She gestured to the chairs behind and I thanked her, sitting down.

After a few minutes a young brunette, with grey eyes and a soft smile came up to the reception. The secretary pointed to me straight away.

'Hi, I'm Hana.' – She introduced herself, holding out her hand to me.

'I'm Dean' – I shook it, deciding not to lie about my name as well.

'Follow me please.' – She turned around and started walking back where she came from. I followed suit. The walk was short and we reached some hall, which the elderly occupied.

'There is Mr. Novak' – She pointed to a man playing chess by himself and led me towards him. All I could see so far was the man's small frame and grey hair.

'James, you have a visitor' – Hana spoke softly.

The man didn't lift his head: 'Is it Cassie?'

My jaw tightened, the name sounded wrong coming from his mouth, and it didn't suit Castiel at all.

'No, it's a friend of his.' – Hana replied calmly

I raised an eyebrow, looking at the nurse, but she didn't bat an eye as she continued watching the old man.

This time the man lifted his head and I was met with an old and wrinkled face. Castiel looked nothing like him, except for the blue eyes. But whether Castiel's were glowing blue, his father's were dull.

He completely ignored me as he looked at the nurse: 'When is my son going to visit me again?'

Again? Castiel visited him? My heart squeezed in my chest. After everything this man put him through, why would he come and see him?

'Castiel is in prison. I have told you this before.' – Hana answered with an edge to her voice. I studied her carefully. She didn't look calm anymore. Her lips were thin and her eyes blazed with anger. I wondered what her reasons were behind the emotion. She didn't look the type to get annoyed with patients, just for repeating herself.

'You are trying to keep him away from me' – James interrupted my thoughts and I looked at him in shock, thinking that he was talking about me, but he was still preoccupied with Hana.

Her reply was barely a whisper: 'I wish I could'

She knew what this man has committed. The anger made sense. She turned to me again, not sparing the other man another glance: 'He is all yours. Call me if you need anything'

She smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. Then she walked away leaving me alone with the monster. Even though other people were in the room, I felt like I was drowning in silence as I looked back at the man. Finally he acknowledged my presence and stared back. His eyes were empty.

I took a sit across from him, looking at the chessboard, trying to concentrate; I didn't know what to say. I wanted to yell obscenities at the man, curse him for hurting Castiel, but nothing came out. So we just sat in silence. I knew he was looking at me, I could feel his vacant gaze and it made me sick.

'My boy doesn't have friends.' – He spoke first and I felt the anger start to grow as I met his eyes again.

'How do you know?' – I asked, putting my arms on the table, wishing that the man could read my mind and see how much I wanted to kill him.

He sneered: 'Because he tells me everything. I raised him well.' – There was hidden meaning behind those words and I did all I could not to clasp my fists around his throat.

'Well maybe he doesn't tell you everything about his life. I am here, aren't I?' – I smirked, waiting to see his reaction.

'Where did he find you?' – The man drawled, not giving me any indication on what he was feeling.

'In prison' – I answered truthfully

The man chuckled: 'Ah I see, you look like a con'

Great

'I hope Castiel has been good and did as he was told' – the man's eyes glinted, smile widening, revealing a couple of black teeth.

I wanted to vomit, but I returned his gaze, holding myself steady

James carried on: 'That boy just needs a firm hand, know who is in charge, and then he would obey your every wish' – the man's eyes closed in pleasure, remembering something.

My hands clenched on the table top as the man continued obliviously: 'He is a good fuck, isn't he?' – James eyes were on me again, pupils dilating: 'Spreads himself open so easily, just there for the taking.'

White noise filled my ears and I found myself, bending over the table, with my hand on the back of the man's neck as I smashed it down onto the chessboard, scattering the chess pieces on the floor.

'Listen, you piece of garbage, you talk about him like that again I will cut out your tongue. I will find a way to kill you, remember that. You belong in hell, you filth.' – I growled

Then I let go and stood up, controlling my breathing. James lifted his head and slid back in the chair, looking at me with wide eyes, filled with fear. Mission accomplished.

I turned from him and walked away. Some of the other residents were looking at me in shock. I noticed Hana from the corner of my eye. She nodded, before returning her attention to the other residents.

I walked out of the nursing home with left over rage still burning in me. I had to lean my forehead against the wall, breathing in and out. My fist connected with the brick and I felt skin scrape of my knuckles. I didn't care, as I continued to pound the building.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the lack of Cas in this chapter, and my lack of imagination on his father's name. I imagine Castiel's father as Metatron for some reason. Probably because the guy pisses me off.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is probably the shortest chapter so far, sorry about that. I came up with it while lying in bed last night. All good ideas seem to come to me in the dark. I hope you'll enjoy it.**

**I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

><p>Since I found out about Castiel, everything seemed to change, at least my perception of him. I still found him mysterious and unreadable, but I have come to realize that he was a broken man. I still wanted him; there was no doubt about that. I wanted to lay him down and watch him come undone under me. But I couldn't do anything about it. He had to make the first move. It had to be his choice. He was pushed into way too many situations in his life where he didn't get to decide anything. I wasn't going to do the same. So I just kept watching him, making sure he didn't notice my gaze. Studying him became my favourite past time, and there was still nothing I could see about him that would give me any indication on what he was thinking.<p>

'Dean!' – I heard my name being called out as I walked around the first floor. I turned around, already guessing who it was.

'Balthazar' – I sighed as the inmate strolled towards me.

'Hey gorgeous, I want to ask you for a favour' – He wiggled his eyebrows, smiling at me. I rolled my eyes: 'What is it?'

Balthazar was harmless, a common thief really. Well a very good thief. He had stolen thousands of jewellery from various countries. It took 10 years for them to catch him, and even then I think he planned to be caught. As he told me before: he was bored, running around, trying to hide. This way he would serve out his sentence, and then after 6 years be a free man. No one found the jewellery he had stolen either, so I was pretty sure, he stashed it somewhere, waiting for him when he got out. Balthazar was a clever man.

'Come on, it's too crowded here' – He waved for me to follow him and I grudgingly obliged.

A sheet was covering his cell and both of us snuck under it. He went to his drawers and pulled out an envelope handing it to me.

'I need a couple of things from the real world. I was hoping you could get them for me'

This wasn't an unusual occurrence, Balthazar often asked me for stuff. Mostly he just wanted books.

'Sure, what do you need?'

He proceeded to take out a piece of paper and sat down on his bed, to write down the list.

'You couldn't have written it down before?' – I asked, annoyed.

'Sorry, I was busy.' – He replied smoothly in his British accent. So I just leaned against the wall waiting for him to finish.

When he was done he gave the paper to me. I scanned it quickly, reading the different titles.

'10 books' – I made sure

He nodded

'All right, give me 5 days' – I folded the paper and put it in the back of my trousers.

'Take your time.' – Balthazar smiled as I lifted the sheet to leave his cell. When I was a few feet away, he called out: 'Thank you so much, Darling.'

I turned around, giving him a glare. He was grinning and his eyes darted to the side. I frowned and followed his line of vision. Castiel was watching me. And he didn't look happy. Shit. All the pieces fell into place. Balthazar planned this. He didn't have the list prepared on purpose. I spent too much time in cell.

I stood frozen on the spot staring at Castiel. He just turned around and started walking away

'Well don't just stand there' – Balthazar spoke impatiently. I glanced at him, seeing his irritated expression. He waved towards Castiel, before disappearing back in his cell. Son of a bitch

I willed my feet to move, following Castiel.

'Cas.' – I called, when I was near him. The man didn't stop or acknowledge me at all.

I reached out and grabbed his forearm: 'Will you just stop and listen'

'What?' – He whirled on me, eyes blazing

'Nothing happened' – I stated, still holding on to his arm. He shrugged, eyes no longer showing any emotion.

'I understand' – He simply said, stepping back from me

'Do you?' – I lowered my voice

'Yeah, sure' – He sounded like he didn't. I let go of him and he just strode away. I had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

><p>3 days later I was back in work, walking into the guard's break room and taking off my jacket<p>

'Michael, stop being so smug, why the hell are you so happy?' – Crowley asked from across the room, pouring himself a cup of tea.

'You'll never believe who I had last night' – Michael leered, digging into his sandwich

He was working last night. I closed my eyes as I hung my jacket, knowing where this was going. Michael was a bastard, I hated his guts.

'Spill' – Crowley took the seat at the table, all ears.

'The psychopath' – Michael chuckled

I felt cold creep into my veins. There was only one inmate in this place that the guards referred to like that.

'What did you say?' – I didn't even realize I have spoken, as I found myself turning away from the wall and staring at the man.

'What?' – He said impatiently – 'the guy practically begged for it, getting on his knees without being told'

I couldn't stand in this room anymore. I walked out without another ward, going to the toilet. When I got there, I threw up.

* * *

><p>When inmates' break rolled around and they were out of their cells, I searched for Castiel. I found him sitting on the stairs leading to the second floor. I marched towards him, stopping a few inches away. He lifted his gaze looking at me calmly.<p>

'Follow me' – I gritted out, and turned away. I knew he would follow. What I learned about Castiel in all my time observing him, is that he was curious.

I led him towards the bathroom stalls and when he entered I locked the door. He quietly watched me as I paced the room.

'What the fuck Cas?' – I finally looked at him. He just stared back, inclining his head.

'Michael? Really?' – I asked indignantly

He frowned: 'Who?'

Of course. He didn't even know his name.

'The guard' – my jaw clenched.

'Oh right' – realization dawned and he looked at the ceiling, a smirk playing on his lips.

'Why?' – I croaked and his gaze fell back on me

He shrugged: 'I just wanted to have some fun'

He didn't care, his face was impassive, his eyes blank. Rage consumed me. I stepped towards him, schooling my features

'Do you like to be ordered around Castiel?' – I walked even closer – 'Do you enjoy being manhandled?'

His eyes widened a fraction. Finally I was getting somewhere. I pushed at his chest and he stumbled back. My hands fell on the wall, on either side of his head.

'Do you take pleasure in being disciplined, huh Cas?' – He was breathing heavily, not avoiding my gaze, pupils enlarged

'Or should I call you Cassie?' – His body froze as he stared at me – 'That's what your daddy dearest called you, right?'

I was being cruel, and I knew it. But I wanted him to realize that what he was doing was wrong.

I did not see his fist as it collided with the side of my face and I staggered back from the force. My hand automatically went to my mouth as I felt blood dripping from it. I looked back at him, grinning like a maniac.

'Is that it, big boy?'

Another punch collided on the other side of my face. Castiel stood, shaking, in front of me.

'You can do better than that, Cassie.' – I drawled, wanting him to let his entire wrath out

His hands grabbed the front of my shirt as he pushed me against the wall: 'Stop calling me that' - He growled – 'How do you know?' – He was furious, still holding on to me

'We had a heart to heart about you' – I spit the blood on the floor

'He wouldn't' – He rasped, staring at me in shock, colour drained from his face.

'Well, he did.' – I shrugged.

The anger started to dissipate as I looked at Castiel's hollow eyes.

'Why did you see him? After everything that he's done to you' – I asked quietly, trying to bring him back to reality

'He is my father' – The answer was robotic, rehearsed.

'He is a monster!' – I raised my voice, wanting him to hear me.

'What is it to you?' – He fired back, finally snapping out of his trance.

'Because I care! You don't deserve to be treated like that!'

'You don't even know me' – He was stunned by my outburst

'Let me' – I replied simply, licking my lips and his eyes followed the movement – 'Just do what feels right, Cas.' – I breathed, watching him closely. He seemed to be torn.

His eyes snapped to mine before focusing on my mouth again. And then he leaned forward slowly, cautiously. I didn't move, letting him take the lead. When his mouth fell on mine, fireworks exploded in my head, but I stood still, not wanting to spook him. His lips moved against mine, gently, I opened my mouth, mixing our breaths together. His tongue slipped inside, exploring. I inclined my head, for a better angle and moved my tongue against his softly. The kiss was unhurried, and so good that I never wanted it to end.

I lifted my hand and put it on his hip lightly. I felt him tense for a second and then relax again, moving closer to me. My other hand went to the back of his neck, and I splayed my fingertips over his skin, stroking. His breath hitched and I pressed my lips harder against his, wanting to swallow all his sounds. We broke away after what felt like eternity, both of us breathing heavily. I put my forehead to his, closing my eyes, as he leaned against me.

I moved my lips to his jaw, leaving chaste kisses there until I reached his ear and whispered 'You are off limits, as well'

He sighed contentedly and dropped his head on my shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ta-da, first kiss, finally some action. I just love the build-up to a relationship.**

**Feedback, Feedback, Feedback)))**


End file.
